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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27574150">The Divyne Summer Break</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TappingTheKeys/pseuds/TappingTheKeys'>TappingTheKeys</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>AU, Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Romance, Slow Burn, angsty oh so much angst, everyone is human, gonna have to change that rating, seaside summer break</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 21:08:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,450</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27574150</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TappingTheKeys/pseuds/TappingTheKeys</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>**On Hiatus***</p><p>Deciding to step up and help his brother after a devastating heartbreak, Dean Winchester kidnaps his Sam for a Summer Break of relaxation and catharsis to the small seaside town of Divyne. </p><p>The plan was to unwind, get drunk and keep the Impala from rusting - But fate chose to twist their lives beyond control, with the introduction of piercing blue eyes, fried scallops and a dolphin named Friendly.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Dean Winchester, Lucifer/Sam Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Divyne Summer Break</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Life is so much easier by the beach,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he mused, trailing his fingers through the sand. Tiny patterns surrounded him – he’d been sitting there a long time. Small shells were scooped into neat little piles near his crossed knees. The sand directly in front of him had a large letter ‘C’ clearly drawn. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stared at that letter, face hardening, before laying a flat palm over it and disappearing any evidence. His lip trembled. His teeth clenched. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A tear slipped down his cheek, and he lifted his head to allow the sharp wind coming off the waves to wipe it away.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Then again, maybe not. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p>
  <span class="u">
    <b>Three Weeks Earlier</b>
  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sleek black Impala cruised along the coast and entered the small seaside village of Divyne. Windows down, Dean Winchester held his arm out and let it float on the breeze. He looked through the passenger side window at the sparkling blue waves crashing playfully against the pristine white sand. Then, he turned his focus to the sulking mass taking up the passenger seat. His brother Sam – his grumpy, heartbroken brother, Sam.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“C’mon, Sammy! Smell that fresh ocean breeze!” He sniffed a huge breath through is nose, crunching his face comically. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam scowled and tapped faster at the keyboard on his lap.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That has to be the clearest ocean I’ve ever seen. Whoa! A mermaid!” He glanced sidelong, looking for a reaction. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nothing. Time for a new tact. He stomped on the brakes, pulling the car over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Holy shit!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I could have sworn I just saw the ghost of Jaws!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam glared at him – clearly not even slightly surprised. Dean held his serious look a moment longer, glancing at the sea… then cracked staring straight at Sam and lifting his chin, grinning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gotcha.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not even close, Dean.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you totally believed me about the mermaid.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam scowled and shut his laptop forcefully. He wrenched open the car door and stomped out, slamming it behind him</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where ya going, Sammy? Going to look for the Mermaids? Cos they were like, fifty yards back!” He kept grinning, and let out a soundless laugh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam walked across the tufts of scratchy ocean grass and scrambled his way to the bottom of a small dune, staring at the waves and letting the cool air whip his hair about and smooth the edges off his temper. Closing his eyes, he mentally spoke his calming words, and tried to find the joy in the scent of salt and brine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A car door closed. Foot steps. Sam took a deep breath, and opened his eyes, still staring straight ahead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean stood next to him, eyes on the waves. “Oh c’mon Sam. It was just a joke – don’t get all huffy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Deep</span>
  </em>
  <span> breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are we even doing here, Dean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Summer break tradition.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We don’t HAVE a summer break tradition.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes we do. Starting now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam let his head fall back on his neck, and let out a frustrated noise. “What are we even going to </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean looked at him, taking in the tense shoulders. The oily, finger combed hair. The dark… </span>
  <em>
    <span>darker</span>
  </em>
  <span> bags under the eyes. The stained shirt. His brows furrowed, and his mouth set into a stubborn line.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re going to open up and air out Bobby’s beach shack, like he asked us. We’re going to drink beer and watch bad local TV. We’re going to eat ‘fish and chips’ like the locals, and wear stupid, ridiculous straw hats. We’re going to swim in the Sea and get tanned. We’re going to </span>
  <em>
    <span>relax</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Sammy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam dropped his gaze back to Dean, resignation on his face, and a hint of brotherly affection. “No work?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Definitely not. I’ll hide your laptop if I have to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A tiny, hint of a grin crept up Sams face, and for the first time since Dean had stuffed him in the car with nothing but his back pack, he looked ready to accept what was happening. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean noticed the change, and felt the ice around his heart thaw just a little. Sam was finally ready to start moving on. Thank god. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a jerk of his head, Dean headed back to the car, gracelessly scrambling up the dune. Sam followed, taking the small metre high ledge in one step. He grinned at his brother, who looked comically put out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe this might be… possibly… a little bit of fun.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p>
  <em>
    <span>When Bobby said shack, I though he meant SHACK!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Deans eyes widened as he pulled up the loose sandy gravel driveway and stared at the delightfully middle class house perched on the grassy hill.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took in the broad corrugated roof covered in solar panels, the wide wooden deck surrounding the entire structure. The old, but clean whitewashed shutters protecting the multitude of large windows, designed to allow the sea air to permeate and freshen the house. The raised forward edge of the building as the shrubby grass hill dropped away towards the beach one hundred yards away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dean, are you sure this is Bobby’s ‘shack’?” Sam asked, incredulously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is the address. Let me just message him real quick.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean parked the car, pulled out his phone, snapped a quick shot of the house and forwarded it to Bobby with a short message. The reply was instantaneous: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yup. Just be sure to leave it the way you found it. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He showed his phone to Sam, wide eyed. The brothers stared at each other. Huge smiles of elation spread across their faces, so similar, that the family resemblance was impossible to miss. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They bolted out of the car, whopping and shouting at each other. Sprinting up to the deck, they rounded the corner, coming up to the seaward facing side of the house. The large, foldable doors were glass, allowing a perfect view of the waves. The next house was about two hundred yards away, along the coastline and closer to the main village. Huge beach palms flanked the house, offering privacy and shade. To the rear, the main coastal road, hidden behind a dense line of wild shrubs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean turned to Sam, awe on his face. “This. Is going. To be </span>
  <em>
    <span>awesome</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>A few hours later and the sun was just cresting past noon. The shutters and windows opened, the seaside doors folded back. The boys had found the six chairs for the back table sitting inside, along with a bunch of jar candles and a large black beach umbrella that fitted to a special stand in the corner of the deck, offering shade during the hottest part of the day. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The inside had proven to be as neat as the outside: A large open plan living room with slightly worn cream carpets, a squishy charcoal couch which folded out into an extra bed, two bedrooms, a shared bath, laundry and plenty of cupboard space. The kitchen was older, but clean and tidy, with a new oven and fridge. The boys had claimed their rooms, loaded the case of beer in the fridge, and settled into the comfortable wooden chairs on the deck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is the life, eh, Sammy?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam sucked on his beer and settled back, allowing some of the tension to leave his shoulders. This place certainly was refreshing - but it also left a man with too much time to think. Memories of the breakup flooded him, and he nursed his drink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean didn’t notice the change, and instead suggested they head into town to grab some lunch, and some pie. When Sam said nothing, Dean fidgeted, unsure how to tackle this problem without a confrontation. He wasn’t ready for that - not yet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How about I go into town and grab the grub, and you stay here and enjoy the serenity?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At that moment, a seagull cried out loudly and plummeted from the sky to land on the balcony rail. Sam stared at it. It stared right back. It </span>
  <em>
    <span>screamed </span>
  </em>
  <span>at Sam. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And now you have company.” Dean hustled towards the car before he burst out laughing at the absurd bird that refused to be shooed away, despite Sams gangly attempts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he backed the car onto the main road, he thought back to Sams mood drop. </span>
  <em>
    <span>We’re going to have to tackle that sooner rather than later.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>It only took five minutes to backtrack to the small village of Divyne. The assortment of ramshackle stores, all neatly refurbished to attract tourists was set up on ether side of a single main road named (creatively enough) Main Street. The neighborhood of maybe five hundred people contained a small school, a series of rentable cabins on the beach, named ‘The Divynity Resort’, a bar which doubled as one of two eateries, and a gas station. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean pulled into a free park outside the second of the towns two eateries - a combination cafe and souvenir store for the towns local mascot ‘Friendly’ - A sociable Atlantic white-sided dolphin that had migrated to the area and just never left. There were a few spindly tables inside and out, covered in cheap vinyl tablecloths - easy to clean. A couple of teens were seated at one, laughing and clearly playing hooky. A pair of elderly women sat at one of the 4 tables inside, clearly having a lovely time.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He walked through the entrance, drifting to the souvenir stands and chuckling at the plushy Friendlys, the postcards of the mammal playing in the waves with locals, and magnets with clever puns like ‘I got Friendly with Divynity’ and ‘It’s a Divyne time to visit!’. Hearing the steaming jet of a coffee machine, and smelling the promise of fried foods (an odd, but not unwelcome combination of scents) Dean turned to the cafe side of the shop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He scanned behind the counter and saw a form crouching down and fumbling in the cupboards under the large coffee machine.  He cleared his throat to get the mans attention. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Be right with you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The deep, gravelly voice surprised Dean, but he waited patiently, looking at the menu over head, written on wide, dusty chalk boards. They had a small range of burgers, salads, fried fish and chips, and… good. Pie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His attention was brought back down when the figure straightened up, dusting off his waist apron. Piercing blue eyes, set deep in tanned, warm skin. Wild black hair topping a sharp, stubbly chin. Dean smiled at the man - he looked like he needed a year of sleep, and that was totally relatable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey. Can I grab some… uh… whatever the locals eat for lunch? And what kind of pie do you have?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The blue eyes blinked. Chapped, full lips parted, then closed. A small shake. The man behind the counter pulled out a pen and pad of paper, scribbling down an order. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cod and fries, ketchup, lemon, and fried scallops. We have cherry pies and apple pie. Would You just want the one serve?” He spoke strangely… formally.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean licked his bottom lip, stomach growling at the mention of apple pie. “Two serves of the fish thing. And a cheeseburger. And three slices of pie.” The man scribbled down the order. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Name?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dean.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you staying at the Divynity Resort?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean shook his head. “Me and my brother are staying in the area for a couple of weeks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man nodded, distracted. He hustled off to the kitchen, leaving Dean to wait nearby and peruse the souvenirs some more. After a few minutes, he called out to the man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is there a convenience store near here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The head of tousled black hair appeared in the kitchen doorway, “Two doors down. This will be another ten minutes if you needed to go there.” Again, that odd formality.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean nodded his thanks and headed out the door. He glanced back at the barista… cook… whatever. Interesting guy.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p>
  <em>
    <span>What the hell</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Castiel shook himself for a second time. This Dean was a surprise! Sure, tourists come to town all the time, and yes, sometimes they’re handsome, or alluring, or have that certain spark that turns heads. But this one…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas jumped as the oil from the fryer bubbled, and a small droplet hit his hand. He wiped the oil off on his apron, and focused, determined to shake loose the sensation of doom he got from the man.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Dean walked down aisles, grabbing funyuns, chips ahoy and anything else that was entirely artificial. No need for beer, he’d be back tomorrow for a coffee, and would pick some up then. Basket full, he stopped at the counter and pulled out his wallet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The young brunette seated behind the counter blew a gum bubble and put down her magazine. She looked Dean up and down and a hint of a smile touched her lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you find everything you needed?” She asked politely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. You guys have a </span>
  <em>
    <span>great </span>
  </em>
  <span> range of TP.” He held up a fancy roll and gave it a wiggle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her eyes danced merrily. She rang him up, and gave him his change, that hint of a smile still on her face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you tried the coffee yet?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He blinked. “You sell coffee here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Only the instant kind. I meant at Cas’s place.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She stared at him, then spoke slowly, as if to a child. “The cafe and souvenir store. Castiels? The dude who runs it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean ‘ohhh’d in understanding. “Oh yeah - sorry, didn’t catch his name. He’s getting me the local special for lunch.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“yeah I’ll bet he is.” She muttered with a smile</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean looked at her oddly as he left.  She waved, at him as she picked up her magazine and began reading, still chewing her gum.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Dean dumped his groceries unceremoniously in the trunk of the car, and eyed Main Street. It </span>
  <em>
    <span>seemed</span>
  </em>
  <span> normal. A quiet seaside village - not that he’d spent a lot of time near the sea. The people were few, the shops were quiet, but friendly. He got a good feeling here. Not like home, but like finding a great car park: Close to everything, safe from vandals, and protected.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He strode into the cafe. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Castiels </span>
  </em>
  <span>- he told himself. Those same blue eyes watched him, and had his packages neatly laid out on the counter. Dean smiled hugely at the thought of pie, and piled everything into his arms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks Cas.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man jerked as if slapped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, sorry. It’s Cas, right? The girl at the convenience store said this was your place?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Castiel nodded stiffly, steel in his eyes. “My name is Castiel.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean turned to leave “Ok, cool. Well me and Sammy will be around for the next few weeks, so I’ll probably be in tomorrow. Later, Cas!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he was gone. Castiel clenched his jaw till his teeth hurt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was going to be a difficult few weeks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi all, I can't seem to stop writing at the moment. </p><p>This is a slow burn fiic, long outlay, WILL have romance, fluff, smut and more. I like a solid bit of sarcastic humour on my work, and I write how I think: visually. Prepare for world building. </p><p>If you've gotten this far, thank you for reading. I hope you enjoy visiting Divyne.</p><p>PS - It's on the EAST coast.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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